


A Chance Encounter

by AssassinzDragon



Series: Kay's Marvel Universe [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Family Feels, Hydra (Marvel), Kidnapping, Plot Twists
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:14:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23114518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AssassinzDragon/pseuds/AssassinzDragon
Summary: Only a year after the Soldier plucked Steve from the water and starting to wake up, Bucky finds himself being taken in by a kind family in Canada. Staying in one place is dangerous for the fugitive but maybe just a week won't hurt?But his enemies have been waiting for him to slow down long enough for them to move in.And it's like they always taught him. 'Love is weakness. Kindness is detrimental. and Compliance will always be rewarded.'
Series: Kay's Marvel Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661464





	A Chance Encounter

Gotta keep going.

He has been on the move for a little over a year. The longest he’d stayed in one place was when he’d found a cat that wanted- _needed_ his help. But when he caught wind of SHIELD, he had to go again.

Honestly, that’s not the hard part. The hardest part is trying to make sense of the flashes he gets. He knows that he isn’t just the weapon anymore. But he’s not... Bucky. Not what Steve wants him to be.

For a while after seeing the memorial, he avoided looking at any mirrors. He couldn’t even begin to put together that the face he sees now, this rugged and unshaven one, is supposed to be the same face that kids are looking up to, and have been for decades.

He doesn’t feel like a war hero or a veteran, he feels like a broken cannon left behind after the war was done.

To get away from the feelings and thoughts, he often decides to ride for days, not bothering to stop and take another chance of being caught. One thing he does appreciate is that he was able to take (literally) an old motorcycle and fix it in a few days after sneaking in and out of a junkyard.

He would rather ride without a helmet to feel the wind, but his face isn’t exactly a welcome one, and he needed to stop for food and gas.

He hadn’t been able to get out of the states until about a week ago. But Canada was just as dangerous to him as the US. He needed to go farther.

He had made a contact through someone taking pity on the man and he’s got a flight chartered to Rome for tomorrow. But he had to make his way back to the easternmost border coast to do so. He’d been on the road for a week, having only stopped twice for lodging. His back needed to be horizontal every once in a while after long enough rides.

The more East he went, the more he felt like eyes. He may not be in the states but SHIELD- Hydra, The US government- whoever it is these days that want him dead- is never far away.

It was a colder day than usual, the snow coming down. It was another reason he knew he needed to stop. He was looking for road signs to tell him where the closest town is, but he realized they’re in Russian. He comes to a screeching halt, his tail end whipping to the side as she slid to the stop.

“James!”

The woman’s voice was muffled through the snow.

“James come back!”

His head whipped around, half-stumbling to get off of the bike to try and pinpoint the voice.

He didn’t even see the little car coming, he was focused on the distance.

When he woke up, he was on a couch, a quilt laid over him. He went to get up and stopped, wincing with pain. His ribs ached. He slowly sat up holding his side and looking around. There was a fire raging in the fireplace, the storm still doing the same outside. The cabin was warm, not just with the fire, but with the way it was decorated- what the h e l l

He froze at the two children sitting on the rug, staring at him.

One froze, continuing to stare but the older one yelled out “MOM! DAD! HE'S AWAKE!” so loud that he jumped. He looked down at himself when he heard the coming footsteps. His boots helmet, gloves, and jacket were folded and stacked next to him and he was left in his long-sleeve shirt and jeans. He looked at his hands- his metal one, in particular, cursing in Russian before hiding it under the quilt.

Probably a dumb idea since they’ve probably already seen it.

The parents entered the room, the dad trying to stand as tall as he could, entered slowly, while the wife walked quickly to him, offering him a glass of water.

“We’re so sorry- we didn’t even see you out there. What were you doing out there anyway-?”

“Heather.” The husband said, his eyes on Bucky who hadn’t made a move to take the glass. “Why were you out there, standing in the road?” He seemed... Yeah, this is false bravado, the man is scared.

Bucky looked from the parents to the kids, then back to the parents.

“Go to your room, kids, it’s bedtime.” The mother said quickly.

“It’s well past bedtime.” The dad corrected. After a few whines and waves to him, they were off to bed.

He stared at them for a few more seconds before speaking. “I thought-“ his voice cracked. He cleared his throat, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “I thought I heard someone else out there. Is my bike gone?” He asked, looking out of the window at the snow.

“We were on our way to the cabin in our little car when the snowstorm hit.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking down. "We had been trying to beat it here." The man said, sounding sorry.

He nodded, understanding. Snow can be dangerous for civilians. But his mind was running fast. They just happened to be on the same back road at the same time as him? And how do they not know-

He sat up straighter, stretching, and the dad moved in front of the mom. The soldier froze and looked between them, his eyes soft as he looked back down. “I can go find it. I don't want to put you out more than I already have.”

“You’ve been out for a while, I hope your head’s okay,” Heather responded quickly. worry on her face.

The man looked at her, sighing before looking back at him. “Look, we know wh-" the mother elbowed the husband before he could finish the insult. With a sigh, he continued. "Who you are.”

The soldier's head snapped up, his eyes panicked for a moment before his face became resigned. “I can- I'll go.” He repeated.

“No.” The man said, shaking his head.

He tensed up, his fists balling up underneath the quilt. "I'm leaving-"

The man put up a hand to stop him from talking. “You can stay here, we aren’t animals. It’s bad out there. Even a Russian like you would freeze.”

“I’m from New York.” He said it before he even realized he was saying anything.

They blinked, surprised, looking at each other for a moment. “Ah, well... point stands I guess, it gets _coooold_ there too,” Heather said, smiling. She stepped to the side and held out the glass of water again. “Here.”

He looked between them, then slowly took the glass with his right hand. “Thank you.” He looked down.

“I’ll go get something ready to eat, I’m sure you’re hungry.” She basically skipped to the kitchen around the corner.

The man watched her go, then looked to him, his eyes suspicious. “She has a kind heart, more kind than everyone in Québec combined.”

“But...?” He said.

“You’re a murderer.” He said, very matter of fact like.

Assassin, he wanted to correct. But he didn’t. The wrong word or not, they were like a slap in the face. “Not anymore.” He said, his eyes sincere.

He and the man sat in an uncomfortable silence. He drank his water like it was the most interesting thing in the room while staring at the rug, occasionally looking up at the man. He was staring at him, waiting for him to make a move but most likely begging him not to.

“Caleb,-" they both jumped a bit at the sudden shout from the other room. "-honey, could you come and follow me with the syrup?”

“Syrup?”  
“Syrup?” The men spoke at the same time, with the same level of confusion.

The man- Caleb, sighed heavily, giving him one last look before making his way to the kitchen.

In the 30 seconds that he was alone, he re-evaluated the room, surveying for anything that could tell if these two were Hydra. The children threw him, but not much. Hydra would go to disgusting lengths for what they want. Children could be more assets-

With his next breath in, he smelt... what... is that? His stomach growled with the wonderful scent, he couldn’t help but smile when he saw the little plate of eggs and one with a couple of waffles. Caleb set the syrup down and pulled the table to him as Heather set down the plates.

“I- don’t know what to say.”

Heather smiled, her eyes hopeful. “You don’t have to say anything-“  
“Thank you, generally.” They had spoken at the same time. She elbowed her husband again, giving him a sharp look before smiling at him again.

“Of course, thank you. Thank you.” His voice was low, as were his eyes. He grits his teeth, picking up the fork and gripping it tightly. He froze for a moment, inspecting the food and his mind telling him not to eat it. Oh but his stomach.....


End file.
